


Stucky Non-Divergent Drabbles

by FinalFallenFantasy



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky has a potty mouth, Drabbles, Europe in some of them, He ate toilet-mouth wheatos this morning, He'll cry if he finds out, M/M, Who I met in Paris, at least one of these was inspired by an actual drunk Russian, drunk Bucky, he was a nasty homophobe, might be sex in some of them, oneshots, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 18:58:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2280993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FinalFallenFantasy/pseuds/FinalFallenFantasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically a bundle of Stucky drabbles that aren't in the Divergent universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Believe I Can Fly

**Author's Note:**

> So this first one is because Steve is really, honestly just jealous that he's one of the few major superheroes with no method of flying whatsoever. Even Batman sort of flies (is it heresy to mention DC?)

It’s been five years since Steve first found out Bucky was still alive. Five years since Bucky first asked ‘who the hell is Bucky?’. It’s been five years of searching, of fighting, of crying and forgiveness. Five years of torment and therapy, five years of slowly coming back to their senses in a world that is only whole when they are together.

Five years of realising that Steve is falling for Bucky, and five years of realising Bucky never stopped falling for Steve. Five years of counselling and careful, slowly, gently, baby stepping heart-to-hearts at three in the morning. Five years of midnight snacking and catching up on films when their PTSD gets too bad, because Steve has flashbacks too, though he might pretend he doesn’t. Five years of sometimes waking up with a metal hand around Steve’s throat and Bucky going missing for weeks afterwards. Five years of crushing hugs and Manly Tears when he returns.

It’s been five years of chasing Hydra and dealing with Fury’s bullshit and scraping SHIELD back off the floor. Five years of fire and blood and Norse gods who break the crockery. Five years of aliens and men who turn into monsters, five years of Natasha and Clint slowly rebuilding themselves and each other. Five years of tender, open wounds and the gentle scarring that tentative friendships bring.

Five years.

It’s been five years and Steve still hasn’t learned not to jump off fucking buildings. Bucky looks up in the middle of a fight with a Doombot to see Steve _jumping off the roof of a fucking skyscraper_. He punches the bot in the face with his left arm, crumpling its metal exterior, and _runs_.

Steve’s fine. Of course he is. He’s always fine. He has the luck of seventeen devils and the body of a god (Bucky knows, he’s met some) and he managed to cushion his fall _with_ _his shield and three Doombots_ , standing and limping away like it was nothing. Bucky refrains from saying anything ( _just_ ) until after the fight has ended.

At the end, he snags Steve by the collar and drags him closer, slams him against a wall. Steve makes a pained sound – good, maybe he’ll learn not to pull this fucking shit again – and Bucky presses against him, but this time he isn’t going to kiss him, he most certainly is fucking not.

‘You fucking idiot,’ Bucky grinds out. Steve looks at him, all wide-eyed innocence and _fuck him,_ he knows _exactly_ what Bucky’s angry about. ‘You _fucking_ bastard, you jumped off a fucking skyscraper. Again. How many fucking times? No fucking jumping off fucking buildings, or out of planes, or off cliffs or out of helicarriers or into the fucking _ocean_ , no more fucking jumping, you hear me?’

Steve just nods, looking somewhere between amused and shitting himself. Bucky tugs on his collar a bit harder.

‘Do you hear me?’

‘Yes, Bucky,’ Steve says in his ‘I’ll be good’ voice that means ‘oh sod off, I’m doing nothing but this for the next three weeks’.

‘I mean it.’ Bucky searches his mind for a threat that might make Steve listen. ‘I’ll fucking… I’ll. I’ll help Stark tie you up and play you his trashy music for a week solid. Don’t fucking look at me like that, I’ll fucking do it.’

Steve tries, and fails, to look terrified.

‘But Bucky, I just want to fly,’ he says, as innocently as he can. There is so much mischief behind those blue eyes and Bucky just groans, knows this isn’t over, and hauls Steve in for a bruising kiss because really, how is he expected to resist _that_?

‘Punk,’ he mutters as he lets go, stepping away.

‘Jerk,’ Steve laughs, punching his arm lightly.

They laugh about it later, with the others. Natasha suggests Bucky start carrying parachutes everywhere. He gives it some serious thought. He still doesn’t quite get sarcasm all the time.


	2. Feel It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is the one inspired by the drunk Russian homophobe. It was too funny to leave.

The bar wasn't crowded, not terribly, but it wasn't dead either, and there had only been room at the bar by the time Bucky and Steve got there. They'd sat and joked with the barman for a while, knocking back whiskeys, Bucky slowly getting louder and more expansive with his gesturing, not to put too fine a point on it.

'Steve,' Bucky hissed, in the serious tone of the terribly drunk. 'Steve, those guys back there are staring at you.'

Steve turned to look but Bucky's arm swung around to shoddily force him back into place. He rocked on his chair to keep his balance.

'No, don't look. They'll notice,' Bucky said, just as seriously. 'Feel it. Feel it with your back.'

Steve burst out laughing, along with the guys behind him who had, after all, been watching them.


End file.
